


Purity

by sivathomega



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: Church Sex, Churches & Cathedrals, Clergy, Ejaculate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Healing Sex, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Oral Sex, Other, POV Second Person, Painful Sex, Reader’s gender not specified, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Simultaneous Orgasm, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sivathomega/pseuds/sivathomega
Summary: Gender, age, and other identifying factors of the “reader” are intentionally left unspecified; feel free to come up with whatever suits you.





	Purity

**Author's Note:**

> Gender, age, and other identifying factors of the “reader” are intentionally left unspecified; feel free to come up with whatever suits you.

Kotomine's dark silhouette is backlit by the warm light of candles on the altar. When he turns to face you, brilliant moonlight streaming through the windows makes it possible to see his features—his stern gaze, the sharp angle of his jaw; the thick brown hair that falls almost to his shoulders. He makes a striking figure, his mere presence commanding the room, standing before the altar in a long dark coat and black priest's clothes, his large gold cross pendant glinting in the dim light.

He watches you silently, hands clasped behind his back. Then he smiles, a smile that draws you toward him, past the benches, then up to the altar, until you find yourself standing before him. His gaze has not wavered.

You cast your eyes downward, anticipation clenching a tight fist in your gut. He reaches a hand towards you. Instinctively, almost as a protective gesure, you grab it in both hands. Your fingers touch the red seal on his flesh. It almost seems to glow slightly; it has its own pulsing warmth that changes with his breathing. You are suddenly, at that moment, aware of his breathing.

"Oh?" he murmurs. You glance up at him furtively. His voice is deep and resonant. "Would you truly resist me thus? Come."

He still has that smile. Like he knows something he won't tell you. Like he knows who you are, deeply, down to your most concealed places. Commanding you to yield. And you do, like one yielding to a river's cool, swift current on a sweltering day.

You release your grasp. He reaches out and gently strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. You can feel the seal's pulsing warmth on your skin. Your heart begins pounding in your chest, but the fist in your gut unclenches. It is replaced by an electric heat that spreads through your body, and you inhale deeply, taking in the musk and spice of his scent.

He runs his fingers through your hair, just briefly. Then he gathers some of it in his hand, placing the other on your shoulder. He is guiding you, and you follow.

You close your eyes and drop slowly to your knees. You hear the clinking of a belt buckle, the sound of a zipper. Your heart pounds faster as you instinctively part your lips.

He takes your head in his hands. There is a pause. A stretched out silence. You are so close, you can feel the heat of him. And then—

You feel something press against your lips, and he pushes his cock into your mouth.

You open your eyes and look up at him as it slides in deeper, over your tongue, until the hard length of him fills your mouth. You relax your jaw, letting him in further until his cock presses down into your throat. His dark eyes shine in the moonlight. His mouth is open, just slightly. The smile is gone, replaced by something else—desire, sharp as a knife.

Something begins stirring inside you, below your navel; anticipation of the body, a tension. He pulls back, then pushes in. Then again. And again. Each time harder, and just a little faster. Your eyes begin to water, but you are salivating, letting your lips close around his cock, sucking harder with each of his thrusts.

You hear his breath grow heavy. He pulls you closer, letting you swallow his cock to the base, your face pressed against him. He is all you can think of, taste, smell. You barely notice the tears running down your face. 

His cock is getting harder. You feel its smooth head pressing into your throat. You taste the salt of his precum. He is gripping you firmly, strong and sure, holding you still, keeping you in place. Your mouth has begun to ache, saliva dripping from its corners, but it only makes your body grow hotter and more charged.

He pulls out, quickly. You open your eyes, desperation leaping into your throat. His fingers intertwine with your hair. He smiles again.

Then he thrusts his thick cock into your mouth, slamming into the back of your throat. You don't have time to speak; you just choke out a pained moan, keeping your gaze is locked with his.

You see a red flush blaze across his sharp cheekbones. Then his hot cum fills your mouth, spurting down into your throat, spilling out past your lips, mixing with your tears. Thick and sweet and heady, like communion wine.

"Drink," he says. He is breathing heavily. "Drink deeply."

Your lips grip his shaft, and you pull your head back slowly, sucking as hard as you can, swallowing every last drop of him. You are dizzy, quivering. You release his cock from your mouth and relax your body, breathing heavily, almost gasping for air. He brushes his thumb across your chin, catching the drops of cum that spilled out, then pushes it into your mouth. Your tongue flicks eagerly against it. You want all of him. You want to be filled with his taste.

He buries his hand in your hair again, but his time it's gentler, almost tender. With the other hand he wipes the tears from your face. You glance at his cock, only now noticing the gentle upwards curve of it, its thickness, its color—the shaft a light tan, matching his skin; the head a dusky pink. It glistens, still wet with your saliva.

He is still hard. You move your hand up to touch it, wanting to stroke it, wanting to feel its firmness in your palm—but he seizes your wrist before you can.

He pulls you upwards, and you comply. You realize, suddenly, how wet you are, how your cunt aches with desire. Your heart leaps in your chest.

Then, firm and sure as ever, he grasps you by the shoulders. He turns you around to face the altar, moving his strong hands down the length of your body, stopping at your hips. You whimper as he presses against you, pushing you up against the rough wood. You can feel the heat of the candles. They flicker with each ragged exhale of your breath.

"K-Kotomine..." you whisper hoarsely. He laughs, a deep, quiet laugh. He uses one hand to tug your waistband down, while reaching around with the other. He runs his fingers across your belly and down—down to—

You bite your lip to suppress a yelp. He is rubbing his thumb on your clit, and he slips a finger into—

You clench around him and feel a spasm radiate through your body. He pulls his hand back quickly. You feel his hot breath against your neck.

"No, it is not time for that," he says. The sound of his voice is enough to make your legs quiver. "First you must give yourself to me."

Then, suddenly, he seizes your hips. You feel something pushing against your cunt. warm, and hard, and—

You gasp as he thrusts his cock into you. In one smooth motion he has pushed himself deep inside you. You feel a swift jolt of pain, mixed with radiating pleasure. You grit your teeth, shutting your eyes tight, determined to endure it.

He leans forward. You feel his gold crucifix pendant fall down against your back.

"Does it hurt?" he says, his lips brushing your ear. You shudder, unable to speak. "Keep still—"

He pulls out almost completely, his cock rubbing against the most sensitive spot inside you as it moves. Then he thrusts back in. The pain is better now; pleasure eclipses it. You can think of nothing else. To be filled with him—to be fucked like this, by a—

You cry out suddenly. He is thrusting into you again, his hips slapping against you. It's so much. It's too much. Your legs are shaking.

He moans deeply, and you feel his cock swell. You can't take it anymore. Your cunt clenches around him, and you feel your wetness begin gushing out as his cock moves against your deepest places, your tenderest places. His breath is hoarse and ragged.

Then he slams into you, even harder than before, and digs his strong fingers into the flesh of your hips, and you feel something hot and liquid inside you, coming in thick spurts, and it's enough to—

You moan urgently as your orgasm comes on like a rushing tide. Your cunt spasms and clenches uncontrollably with each wave of pleasure radiating through your body. You're shaking, sweating, your wetness dripping out of your cunt, mixing with his hot cum.

He thrusts slowly a couple more times, then pulls out. Your limbs are heavy and weak. You drop to your knees, barely able to move, slumped over on the ground, gasping for air. His cum drips out of you and runs down your leg.

You sense him crouch down behind you. "You are doing well," he says. "Now—"

He gathers you in his arms, and your limp body complies. He slips his hands underneath you and stands up, lifting you easily into the air. You drape your arms around his neck, your legs swung over one of his forearms, leaning your back against the other.

The church is dark, but you can see dust motes swirling in the beams of pale moonlight shining through the stained-glass windows. He carries you off the platform, down from the altar, and then lowers himself carefully down onto the first pew, until he is sitting with you on his lap.

You feel his hard cock pressing against you from beneath, and you lift yourself up until you're straddling him, your body almost moving on its own.

You don't understand how he's still so hard, or how you're still so wet. Your cunt brushes against the shaft of his cock. You grip his coat in both hands, bracing yourself against him, and look him in the eye.

His gaze is steady. His eyes are a deep brown, bright and keen. He looks at you gravely for a moment, and then he smiles. You feel your heartbeat quicken.

You let his cock push up against the entrance of your cunt for a moment. You see a flash of something in his eyes—desperation, maybe; a vulnerability you hadn't noticed before. You savor it.

Then you relax and lower yourself down onto his cock, letting him enter you, letting his thickness fill you again, warm and pulsing.

He inhales sharply, and you arch your back, gazing up into the dark for a moment, before pushing yourself up again. Feeling his cock slide out of you, then back in again, moaning softly as it presses into your tender spots, drawing out gentle bursts of pleasure. Your cunt tightens around it. You keep going. Up, down, up, down, slowly, carefully.

He is gripping your hips, his gaze still fixed on you. You bite your lip. You glance down at his cross pendant.  
  
You suddenly get a sinking feeling in your chest.

He must've seen it on your face, because he looks at you, searching, knowing.

"Do you think this is wrong?" he says. You are still moving up and down on his cock; you can't stop yourself. "A man of God, taking you like this? In a church, no less—a sacred place?"

You don't answer, but a tear slips down your cheek.

"You are mistaken," he says. "Nothing could honor the Almighty more than this."

He grips you tighter, and you grind your hips against him, leaning forward to press your head against his shoulder.

"Because you are mine," he murmurs. His breath has grown shallow, but his voice is steady. "You are mine. Promise yourself to me."

You whimper. Every thrust heightens your pleasure, like diffuse electricity moving through you. It's so good. It's so impossibly good. You move faster.

"Will—will you—" you stammer.

"Hm?"

"Make me—"

"Speak."

You take a deep breath. "Make me pure... again...?"

You bury your face in his neck. You can feel his pulse, his thick, soft hair brushing against your ear. The skin below his jaw is smooth and delicate against your lips. His scent is intoxicating; sweat and smoke and heat, dark like liquor.

"Yes," he says. His deep voice reverberates through his throat and chest, reaching into your depths. "I will make you pure. By God's will, you shall be cleansed."

Then he starts thrusting his hips upward, faster and faster, holding you in his strong arms, his cock pressing deep into your cunt, in and out, fucking you until you can hardly breathe. You yelp and moan with each thrust. You realize tears have begun streaming down your face, dampening his collar.

"Are you mine? Tell me—before God and the angels—before the saints—tell me, and I will wash your sins away—"

You lift your head and look at him. He is filling you, stretching you. You can think of nothing but his long, thick cock, his body, his scent, his—

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Kirei. I'm yours." You murmur it like a prayer. "I'm yours, I'm yours, Kirei, I'm—"

Then, without warning, you cum. The pleasure is almost unbearable. You let out a moan that turns into a cry, echoing through the church. You are shaking in ecstasy, white hot pleasure blazing through you, your cunt tight and wet and gripping his cock.

Through the sublime, limitless rush, you hear him murmuring. "Yes... yes... that's it—ah—ahhhhh—"

Your orgasm begins to to wane, but feeling his impending release, feeling him shake and moan brings about another spasm, another shudder—then a cacophony of pleasure and sweet ache. You whimper and bite your lip, clutching him. He moans again.

And then you feel it—one last time, stronger than ever—his thick, hot cum shooting inside you. Hard and fast, filling you completely, its heat purifying you like fire. A sacrament, a blessing.

He closes his eyes, and his body, finally, relaxes; yours does too. You shift your hips to let him pull out, then sink back down, draping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest. His breath is heavy, but slowing down, returning to its normal rhythm. Wetness flows from your cunt, dripping onto him. Your thighs are slick with his cum.

A divine lightness overtakes you, a relief. Like everything wrong, everything poisonous, everything ugly and rotten is passing from you, escaping and dissolving into the cool open air.

You smile, and then you close your eyes and slip into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was previously hosted on my other AO3 account. See my profile for the account name. The original was posted on 2/25/17. (It got 1079 hits, 43 kudos, and 2 bookmarks before it was moved over here... RIP.....)


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